


Suptober 2019

by thelatinfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Destiel - Freeform, Fire, Nightmares, chevy 67 impala, suptober
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:33:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelatinfangirl/pseuds/thelatinfangirl
Summary: Just what I wrote for this year’s suptober.





	1. Baby

For an outsider, that 67 Chevy Impala was just another car. If you were to see it driving around, you’d stop to admire it for a few seconds and then move on.

For a monster, that black car meant trouble. If you were to see it, you’d know that your days were now numbered.

But for Dean Winchester, it meant home.

It was the trusty companion that had taken him all over the country. It was his Baby.

It was the place were so many wonderful moments had happened. Memories of Sam. Of Bobby. Of Castiel. Of all that he’d had and all that he’d lost.

When he looked at the hood of the car, he could still hear the clink of two bottles on those many nights he’d spent with his brother under the stars.

When he looked to the copilot’s seat, he could still see his brother smiling and singing along to an old tune on the radio.

When he looked to the backseat, he could see little Sammy taking a nap after a long and tiring day of work. Forward some years, and he could see his favorite angel humming along to whatever was playing.

But when he really looked, he realized that they were no more than ghosts of memories. When he reached out to take Castiel’s hand, he remembered that he’d chased the angel away. When he murmured “bitch” under his breath and only silence greeted him back, he realized his brother was truly gone.

He was alone now.

And this car that had brought along so much happiness was now but an empty carcass. A shell that housed memories that only brought despair.

So after hours and hours of driving around with no destination in mind, he finally stopped at an empty parking lot. Cold glass pressed to his lips as he took another sip from the bottle. Many more empty bottles lay piled up in the backseat.

Mind fuzzy and feet tumbling, he got down from his car. Beer bottle in one hand and crowbar in the other.

Alcohol and grief clouded his once-bright mind. He could no longer see his Baby, his companion through thick and thin. He could only see moments that would never come back.

Steel crashed against steel. And the hood of the Impala had a huge dent. The place where he’d once shared with his brother.

Another swing of his arm. Broken glass flew everywhere. And the window now lay in shambles. The window through which tunes and singing voices had once escaped.

Swing after swing, memories were destroyed, and the once beautiful car became no more than a crumpled mess of metal.

But no matter how many times he hit the car, nothing helped ease the pain in Dean’s chest.


	2. Season 15

So this was it. The end to all of their adventures. And maybe it was the right way to go.

_ ** Carry on my wayward son... ** _

Together.

They’d go together. As Dean and Sam Winchester did everything else. They would make this sacrifice so that the rest of the world could go on.

So that little kids they’d once saved could get a chance at growing up. So that couples struck by Cupid’s arrow could build a life together. So that good could keep beating evil.

So that the Sun kept rising and life kept thriving.

They would accept their passing this time. No deals to bring them back. Just them and the greeting arms of Death.

The mantle of heroes would pass on to somebody else.

Because they had already done all that they could. The world was now a better place because of them.

And this final sacrifice would only contribute to that legacy.

** _For there’ll be peace when you are done._ **

_Bang._

_Bang_.

Two gunshots. Two bodies falling to the floor.

The deal that would save the world was sealed.

And an era had come to an end.

-

Light.

Blinding light.

Dean blinked rapidly, willing his eyes to adjust. When they finally did, he saw a familiar steering wheel under his hands. He reached for the keys and turned them. The Impala roared to life.

And barren road lay in front of him.

“Alright!” This was almost perfect.

But when he looked to the side there was no Sammy. When he looked to the backseat there was no Castiel.

This couldn’t be heaven, could it?

He supposed it was better than having to rot in hell, but still...

He reached for the hand brake.

And the copilot’s door suddenly opened.

“You weren’t thinking of leaving without me, were you Dean?”

The hunter couldn’t believe his eyes. “Sammy?”

Indeed, said man climbed into the car and shut the door after him.

“Hey.” He said as a way of greeting.

“What are you doing here? Wasn’t Jess your idea of heaven?”

Sam shook his head. “It was... at first. I spent a few days with her, visited Bobby even, but...”

“But what?” He frowned.

“There ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.” He cracked a smile, and then added, “...jerk”

Dean couldn’t help but mimic his brother’s expression. “Bitch.”

Foot pressing on the pedal, the Winchesters set off together.

As it was meant to be.

-

Castiel didn’t know how long he’d cradled Dean’s lifeless body in his arms. Didn’t know when he’d stopped screaming for him to come back and had instead started crying.

All he knew was that his throat was raw and that his chest hurt  so damn much.

Memories wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. Memories of times that were long gone.

_I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition._

The angel softly put his fingers to his friend’s eyes and closed them. With a wave of his hand, the dry blood washed away.

_ We’re family, we need you...  I need you. _

He lay the bodies upon the unlit pyre and then sprayed salt and gas over the two.

He ran a hand through Sam’s silky hair, combing it back. Perfect, as it had always been.

And then the angel turned to his best friend. Dean looked so peaceful... almost as if he was asleep. 

If only he was.

So Cas leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. A final goodbye.

_ **Lay your weary head to rest.** _

Of course, he’d known that this was bound to happen one day. After all, angels were immortal, and humans were not.

But he was definitely not prepared for this type of pain.

The ache in his chest that threatened to take his life away. The one that he feared would never completely disappear.

Wiping away a wayward tear, he threw a match into the pyre and watched as flames sprung to life. He tried to say a few words, but none came. His voice broke every time.

So he waited until the flames died down and the wind carried away the ashes. He waited until the Sun set and the night wind made him shiver. He waited until time was now something foreign and only despair was left in its place.

Finally, the man in the trench coat stood up and made his way to his car. The 67 Chevy Impala that would now be his home. All that was left of the two beautiful lives that were no more.

A cassette playing and stars above his head, Castiel drove away.

_ **Don’t you cry no more.** _


	3. RIP

The sky was bright blue and the birds were chirping, not a single cloud in sight. For anyone, it would have been the perfect day.

But for Castiel, it was the worst day of the year. He almost felt insulted that the sky was shining while his soul was in mourning. Because today marked the tenth year of life without Dean.

He’d died of old age, next to a loving husband and a loyal daughter. And of course, Sam had accompanied him until his last breath. And then had died two weeks later, proving that the Winchesters couldn’t be apart for long.

But Castiel had stayed behind.

Now he understood why angels were warned against catching feelings for humans.

It’d been hell watching Sam and Dean age while he stayed the same. Their hair turned white while his stayed black. Their skin had shown wrinkled while his stayed pristine. They grew too old to hunt while he still went after demons.

And they’d died, while he’d been forced to watch.

The hole that their absence had left in his heart would never heal completely. They were his family, and now he was alone.

So as he did every year, he sat before the gravestones. He brought them flowers and told them about all that had happened in the last year. He told them there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think of them.

Sam’s kid and Dean’s daughter stopped by to visit. Only for a little while though, because they had busy lives.

But Castiel stayed.

He stayed and talked and wept until the stars appeared over his head and the guard came to kick him out.

Oh, how he wished he could turn back time. So that he could kiss Dean one last time. So that he could hear his laugh and get annoyed at his sarcastic comments.

Humans had such short life spans.

And for the millionth time, he wished he did too.


	4. Fire

Heat.

The smell of something burning.

It was what ripped Dean from the claws of sleep.

He groaned but didn’t open his eyes. Maybe if he kept them close, he’d be able to go back to sleep soon. So he felt around with a hand, searching for Cas. A hug would certainly help in achieving the arduous task of sleeping.

He wasn’t there.

Maybe the burning smell was Cas cooking, having gotten hungry in the middle of the night.

A water droplet fell on his cheek. Then another.

How could that be? There was a roof over his head...

Dean’s eyes flew open.

Orange flickers of light danced around the room.

He put a finger to his cheek and wiped away the water. But when he saw his hand... Red.

It was blood, not water.

_No..._

Dean looked to the ceiling. And he experienced fear like he hadn’t before.

“No!”

Because Castiel was burning on the ceiling.

His face was contorted in an expression of pure fear. Flames licked at his body. His stomach was torn open.

And he was dead.

“Cas!” He roared.

This couldn’t be happening to him.

The door was suddenly flung open by Sam, who’d heard his screams through the hallway. He stared in shock at the burning angel, then at his brother, and then at the ceiling again.

Memories of his own lover on fire flashed through his head. But he pushed those away and instead rushed to Dean. He gripped his arms and started dragging him away, to safety.

But Dean kept thrashing and fighting and yelling. Because Cas was dead. He was gone.

One moment he was happy and now he was alone-

Dean woke up with a gasp.

He was drenched in cold sweat and his breath was ragged but... when he looked to the side, Cas was there. Sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling softly.

The fire had only been a dream.

With a relieved sigh, he wrapped his arms around the angel and pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

He was okay.


End file.
